


"Hopak? What's that?"

by booklovertwilight



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dancing, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Yuri!!! On Ice Episode 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 03:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15306099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booklovertwilight/pseuds/booklovertwilight
Summary: Aka, a simple fluff/dancing fic based on a video I saw on Tumblr, my Ukrainian heritage, an idea I don't remember having a long time ago, and the following.I had a hard time believing that, despite everything else Viktor does being off-the-book and weird as hell, his training regimen is so normal (at least as it’s shown explicitly in the anime). Besides the interesting bit with the waterfall, nothing about how Yuuri trains looks odd or unique. Cardio and strength work, complete with a lot of the exact same exercises that I used to do growing up (or that I saw better skaters doing at my training rink). Because of this, I decided I wanted to I insert some stuff that would in fact work similar muscles to the ones used in skating, but that seem to have more of the patented Viktor Nikiforov Flair™, and this fic was born. Enjoy.





	"Hopak? What's that?"

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the video they watch:  
> http://booklovertwilight.tumblr.com/post/169706916446/ruskiizek-slavic-cossack-dancing-known-as
> 
> Also, in case you aren't familiar with me, I spell Viktor's name with a k. I know what it is in canon, but it's more correct to the Russian origin of the name; humor me. For the same reason, I spell Yuuri's name with two u's, because it's more correct to the long u in Japanese.

Yuuri Katsuki did not like interviews. Never had, never will. However, much to his disdain, interviews are a major part of life for an internationally competitive athlete, and as such, he’s had to get very used to them.

Before his very first interview, he was told it would happen the day before. Celestino had probably intended to prepare him and let him know, but that intent was lost in a sea of nerves. Yuuri had frantically researched interview questions, first in Japanese, but then realized that he would be asked in English, and so switched the language settings on his laptop and repeated his search, only to find that evidently the Americans only seemed to care about interviewing football players. He ended up watching Viktor Nikiforov’s interviews on repeat (out of desperation, really), and the next day, when it came time for his own interview, he kept accidentally taking on Russian inflections.

Nowadays, interviews were more of a mild annoyance, only nerve-wracking on occasion, and even then, it was more because he had to interact with humans than because of the interview itself. Part of the reason for this was definitely that Yuuri had simply gotten more used to them: he wasn’t a Junior skater anymore, and he knew what they would ask, for the most part. 

Another part of the reason, though Yuuri didn’t like to admit it to himself too often, was that when he did interviews now, Viktor did most of the answering. His suave charm and brilliance at not answering the question while making it look like he had certainly made the interview process smoother; not to mention that he spoke in that smooth Russian accent that made him sound so put-together. Yuuri, on the other hand, stuttered and stammered even when he wasn’t nervous, said "skate" with a heavy Japanese accent, and occasionally still said "arigato" instead of "thank you".

This time, the world would just have to deal with that: Yuuri was on his own for this interview. He’d known that after Nationals, he would have to do a couple sponsored interviews, but what he didn’t know was that at the same time, Viktor was going to be interviewed by _his_ sponsors, who had made a special trip to Japan to see him. 

Yuuri had tried not to seem clingy. He had done interviews by himself a thousand times before; it wasn’t new. He wasn’t nervous. He just... didn’t want to be away from his coach. Yeah, that was it. Or something like that, anyway. Regardless, he would have to do this alone, and he would not whine about it.

The interviews took place shortly after the podium. Yuuri had stood, smiling, laughing, almost reliving the fun he’d had during his free program, holding his first place certificate. He saw Viktor standing in the audience, clapping along with the spectators and fans, and smiled wider.

Yuuri stepped off the podium after the requisite hundred thousand pictures had been taken, signed several more autographs (including a second for Minami, because evidently signing a notebook hadn’t been enough, he also had to sign a picture of himself), and was met at the edge of the room by the interviewers. 

They lined him up against a wall which conveniently showed part of the Nationals logo for that year and had the cameras rolling almost immediately. Yuuri hardly had time to find Viktor in the dispersing crowd and wave a meager goodbye before the first question.

"What can you tell us about your performance?" asked a middle-aged woman. Yuuri tried to force his attention away from Viktor, who gave him a small nod which said, _you’ve got this_ , before he left the room.

Yuuri did his best to compose himself. "I, um, had a lot of fun today. I’m really looking forward to the rest of the competitive season." It was the truth, though not the bit that would make him sound like a sap. That bit would go something like, _I didn’t think it was possible to have so much fun during a competition, and though I don’t know the reason for sure, I’m going to ascribe it to my new coach’s positive influence._ He had already kind of given Yukko and Takeshi the sappy version, and he wasn’t intent to share it with anyone else.

"A lot of people have been talking about everything that’s changed since last year. New coach, new style... How is it working with Viktor Nikiforov as your coach?"

That wasn’t a standard question. Yuuri belatedly realized that there would be questions about Viktor as a coach now, both because he’d changed coaches and because according to the rest of the skating world, Viktor wasn’t a real coach. 

Well, if Yuuri was perfectly, brutally honest, the best way to describe it would be "a rollercoaster". The second best way to describe it would be "really weird". Viktor had a lot of... unorthodox training methods. The other Yuri had only seen a small section of it when he’d been forced into a temple and under a waterfall... though actually, he had skated with Viktor back in Russia, so he’d probably seen more of Viktor’s trademark extra-ness than Yuuri had so far. Now that was a scary thought. 

"Well, he certainly lives up to the _living legend_ title," Yuuri replied with a chuckle. "Running programs and doing workouts by his side is very helpful. Instead of only correcting my form, he can also demonstrate the way to do it correctly. It’s almost like he’s both my coach and my rinkmate."

"So he hasn’t taken a vacation from the ice altogether, then."

Yuuri shook his head, but decided not to say more than "No." He’d probably said too much already; he’d learned from experience that feeding the press was a bad idea.

"Well that’s good." The interviewer chuckled, undeterred. "Your programs, and your theme, this year are very different from your usual style. Would you care to tell us more about that?"

"Some of it is Viktor’s choreography and music choice. That’s why it seems more his style than mine, though I try to add something original of mine when I skate." _The rest of it is everything else about Viktor. The bits that make sense, the bits that don’t. The way he tries so hard to be the perfect coach for me... the way he doesn’t succeed sometimes, and the way he sometimes does._ Over the past several months, since Viktor first mysteriously showed up in Yuuri’s life, they had easily taken on a virtuous cycle, accepting each others’ eccentricities and helping each other with their flaws.

"Was the 'something original' today slamming your face into a wall?"

"Absolutely," Yuuri deadpanned. He had learned from Phichit that the best way to react to rude questions was with sarcasm. "In fact, that’s part of the choreography." 

This got him a little laugh from the interviewing team, and the interviewer didn’t press it further. Instead, she changed course, but as soon as she asked, Yuuri began to wish she hadn’t. "So about your training regimen. Could you tell us how you’ve been training under Nikiforov? Your jumps in particular have improved significantly from previous years."

She was right. Yuuri’s jumps had improved significantly, and it was due to Viktor’s training regimen. But Yuuri still had no idea what to say about it. Viktor had a lot of oddities, and this was definitely one of them. Because where another coach might have put him on a jumping harness, had him do one-legged squats, or something else, Viktor had him do a particular dance.

* * *

 

_Months ago..._

Viktor had rented a larger room in Minako’s studio than usual, and Yuuri wasn’t sure what to think about it.

Yuuri walked in after Viktor and looked around. Where their standard one was set up like a small ballet studio, complete with mirrors and ballerina bars, this one was set up more like a large ballroom. Actually, it was set up like a ballroom: Minako did host ballroom dancing classes, and this was probably where she did it. The room had a carpeted floor, some speakers in the corners hooked up to a CD player on the short wall closest to the door, and barren plaster walls.

"Viktor," Yuuri said, voice sounding small in the large room, "What are we doing today?"

"Your jumps need significant improvement if you want to win gold, Yuuri." Viktor was turned away from the rest of the room and from Yuuri, fiddling with the CD player. He said it as if the correlation between that fact and their current location was obvious.

Yuuri wandered around the room vaguely, occasionally skimming his fingers along the walls. "And that means we need a ballroom why?" He turned back to Viktor just as his coach was finishing with the CD player.

Viktor turned around with a bright smile. "Because today, we will be dancing! Come here, look at this."

Yuuri jogged over to where Viktor stood looking at his phone. He stood a step away, leaning over and trying to see the phone screen. Viktor took his shoulder and pulled him closer, then slid his hand down to rest on Yuuri’s hip when he decided their position was satisfactory. On Viktor’s phone screen was a YouTube video entitled "Slavic cossack dancing known as Hopak".

Yuuri furrowed his brow a little, not knowing what to expect. He straightened his glasses with the hand that wasn’t holding Viktor’s at his waist - when had that ended up there? - and leaned closer to the screen as Viktor tapped the play button.

Impossibly fast music poured from the tinny phone speakers. Yuuri couldn’t place the instruments; they could be strings, or bagpipes, or harmonica, or some other thing. Two men in black t-shirts crouched to the ground, arms crossed at their fronts. Their legs moved impossibly fast as they bounced on their toes, kicking each leg into the air on beat. Yuuri blinked a few times as they crossed half the camera’s view like this, then split apart and continued outward in diagonals. They stood at the end of it and did gymnasts’ ending poses as two more men jumped in to replace them, running out from what Yuuri noticed was a sizable crowd of these Slavic-looking men in black sweats.

The music slowed just a little, approaching a normal pace, and the two men jumped in time with it, leaping at least their own height off the ground with each leap. They bent one leg in front, one leg in back, and completed one rotation in the air each time with ease. On their last jump of many, though Yuuri hadn’t been counting, each man did a two rotations, with only marginally more effort.

The camera moved to the right and a blur of another man ran into the center of the room, and when he jumped, he bent over backwards and bent his knees so his body formed an O. _What?_ Yuuri thought, but then the camera panned back over to the left and revealed that there was another man who had come from the other side of the room, doing the same thing. The two met in the middle and did another ridiculous leap, in synch with the music, and landed with a hard _thud_ on the downbeat. As they crossed paths and continued towards the opposite ends, they did two more ridiculous jumps, interspersed with the kind of side arabesques which Yuuri had only ever seen from figure skaters and ballerinas. _I’m going to be doing that?!_ he thought.

Unfortunately, Yuuri’s mind had gotten ahead of itself again, because the worst was yet to come. One man this time instead of two this time, in a tank top instead of a t-shirt. He barely took two steps away from the crowd before leaping into a middle split mid-air, touching his pointed toes, which extended above his head. Yuuri heard himself whisper "what" aloud. The man on-screen took another bound forward and did a second jump, and at that point Yuuri realized that there had been two more men doing the exact same ridiculous maneuver behind the first. Not one man; three. The other two had simply blended into the background, because they didn’t jump quite high enough to entirely clear the heads of the other men standing in the crowd. They came very close, though.

Each time they had jumped, the music had come back down for a beat before going up again. Suddenly, the music did not come down: it did consecutive up-beats, and the men proceeded to do consecutive leaps as a result. After three in a row, Yuuri started counting under his breath: "four... five... six... six." Three men did six ridiculous leaps in a row, each the height of a person.

Yuuri watched the rest of the video, dumbfounded into a stupor. One man spun around the room, half-cartwheeling at a 45 degree angle like a top spinning out on its side, occasionally jumping up and rotating two or three times in the air. Another set of men did something resembling a sit spin, but on a wooden floor on the balls of their feet. Another man leapt around on the ball of one foot, the other leg flailing wildly, like a deranged puppet. Another leapt around in a circle like the spinning-out-top guy, except he swung his legs into the air like some ridiculous windmill. Every few men, the song changed, but it was still the same basic style. Eventually, the video ended, and a very confused Yuuri looked up at a very excited Viktor.

"Can you do that?" was the question that managed to escape Yuuri’s lips first.

Viktor nodded, goofy smile still on his lips. He squeezed Yuuri’s waist and walked over to the CD player, pressing the play button. A drum roll that sounded very familiar for some reason began over the speakers. A melody began shortly after that, and Yuuri suddenly realized _why_ it was so familiar. _Is he really doing this?_

Viktor bounded over to the opposite end of the ballroom, and, as the guitars came into the melody, began to dance. His style was similar to that of the men in the video, yet it was different. Definitely a traditional Slavic dance - for all Yuuri knew about traditional Slavic dances - but with a particular Viktor flair to it. Still wearing his skating gear from earlier that morning, he leapt into the air in a blur of blue and silver. He had a similar grace here to what he had on the ice, but here it was much more playful. It certainly helped that Boney M.’s _Rasputin_ was playing over the ballroom speakers.

Yuuri stifled a laugh as Viktor began to bound around on the floor like the deranged-puppet guy, then laughed aloud when Viktor saw this and proceeded to make a stupid face. He stood and bounded around a bit more before beginning something that Yuuri could only describe as an off-ice scratch spin, just as the lyrics began. 

He transitioned into something like the quasi-sit-spin from the video, then leapt up into something like the reverse of a flying spin and looked right at Yuuri with a heart-shaped grin. _Alright,_ Yuuri decided, _I’m doing this now._ He walked over to Viktor, who transformed from performer to coach as he met Yuuri halfway.

Yuuri nodded. "Teach me what to do."

After that, dancing the _hopak_ , it was called, became as much an official part of their training regimen as anything else. The best part about it was, Viktor was incredibly lenient about what counted as good hopak music: he said, "Pick something upbeat that makes you feel good." So Yuuri danced the hopak to a remix of Hatsune Miku’s _Ievan Polkka_.

There was never any strict choreography for these dances, although they both made a habit of including a variety of different types of moves. Perhaps something about the balance of a skating program had influenced them. It was, overall, a good break from skating and stress, and a good mental reset for Yuuri. 

* * *

"Skater Katsuki?"

The interviewer’s voice dragged Yuuri back into the present. "Sorry," he said, doing a little bow. "Viktor and I have been working on a lot of things, focused especially on jumps, which are my weak point. Our focus is to develop a well-rounded program and perfect it by the end of the season." He gave the boiler-plate answer that he’d heard Viktor give on multiple occasions before.

The interviewer seemed satisfied with that answer, or if not satisfied, at least willing to leave it be. "Alright, final question. What are your plans for the rest of the skating season?"

The plan, between him and Viktor, had always been to win GPF gold. Still, Viktor had kept it deliberately vague with the press. He didn’t want any unnecessary or unwanted pressure on Yuuri. Incredibly sweet, but perhaps soon, no longer necessary. Yuuri wanted everyone to know his goals - they always had in the past - and furthermore, he wanted everyone to know what to expect from him this year.

It wouldn’t do to just say it right now, though, especially given how vague he’d been before. He didn’t trust himself to ad-lib a good, eloquent answer that would satisfy not only his own fans but the rest of the skating scene, who thought - perhaps correctly - that he’d stolen Viktor from them. Maybe Viktor could do that, but not Yuuri. He would need a bit of time to prepare.

Everyone who was invited to the Grand Prix series was set to announce their season themes in a short time. That would be a good time to talk about this, to announce his goals, to show the world that he deserved Viktor. To announce his love to the world.

"No comment, for now. You’ll see." Yuuri gave a formal bow. "Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! If you liked it, please leave kudos - it means the world to me to know that somebody read and enjoyed my work. As always, if you have edits, questions, reactions, suggestions for future works, or anything at all in fact, please comment below! I adore reading comments and chatting with you!!! <3<3<3
> 
> If you liked this work, please read my other drabble/one-shot, "The 11th Annual Russian Skaters' Bar Hop", here!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/11163618
> 
> Thank you again! See you next level ~ <3


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